Hell Unveiled
1713 Words
LILA POV
I woke up convinced I was dying because my skull throbbed like it had been split open and stitched back together in the wrong way, every heartbeat was sending sharp pressure behind my eyes. The pain wasn’t clean or sharp, it was dense, swelling, as if my brain was pushing against bone that refused to give. I groaned, instantly regretted it.
Nausea surged, violent and sudden. I forced myself to breathe shallowly, counting each breath like it was the only thing anchoring me to consciousness. Too fast and I’d vomit. Too deep and my head would burst.
Cold air brushed my skin and that was wrong.
It was not the clean chill of air conditioning, this was damp, invasive, seeping straight into my bones. Goosebumps raced up my arms and my teeth chattered before I could stop them. I swallowed, my throat burned and my mouth tasted bitter, metallic, foul enough to make my stomach clench again. My tongue felt thick, useless, glued to the roof of my mouth. What did I drink, I wondered.
I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the spinning to slow and the pain to dull. I needed a memory just anything but instead, warmth bloomed and Nikolai came to my mind, his laugh slipped into my mind, low and genuine, the kind that made your chest feel lighter just hearing it. I remembered the way he used to pull me into him when I complained about the cold, always wrapping his coat around the both of us even if it meant he froze. “Stop shivering,” he’d tease, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You’re going to give me a complex.”
Lazy mornings followed sunlight spilling across white sheets, his fingers tracing absent patterns along my arm. The way he looked at me like I was something rare and something worth guarding. “You’re always safe with me, Lila,” he’d murmured once, forehead pressed to mine. “No one will ever hurt you.”
My chest tightened but then the warmth shattered and when I opened my eyes, gray concrete walls loomed over me, there was no sunlight, warmth and definitely no Nikolai here.
Cold dread slid up my spine, settling at the base of my neck. The sheets beneath my fingers were rough and unfamiliar nothing like the silk I slept on at home. This wasn’t my bed, my breath hitched as I looked down.
A thin, yellowed nightgown clung to my body, faded and shapeless, like something pulled from another century. My clothes were gone.
Panic surged, sharp and blinding, someone undressed me and where the hell am I?
“Welcome to Hell”
The words weren’t spoken aloud, they echoed inside my head, paired with a smile I knew far too well and my heart stuttered.
“Nikolai?” I whispered. Hope flared weak and irrational but the smile in my memory wasn’t warm anymore. It was dark, a mechanical hiss cut through the silence and I froze immediately.
A section of the wall slid open with eerie smoothness, revealing a hidden door. Pain twisted through my stomach as I pushed myself upright, my head screaming in protest. I pressed my back to the headboard, heart hammering, then I saw him.
“Nikolai?” The word escaped me again, louder this time, hope still surged despite everything.
He stepped fully into the light and it died.
His eyes were completely black empty of warmth and burning with something cold and ruthless. Nothing like the man I loved. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice shaking as fear finally overtook confusion.
He approached slowly, holding a box. The light revealed him fully darker hair, shaved at the sides, longer on top. A sharp scar carved down his face. He looked older and harder as if violence had rewritten him. “Hello, Lila,” he said softly.
The sound of his voice sent chills racing down my spine. “What’s going on?” I whispered again.
“First of all,” he said calmly, setting the box on the bed, “let me introduce myself.”
I stared at his outstretched hand. “Why would you introduce yourself? I already know you.”
His lips curved faintly. “You don’t know me, Miss Falcone.”
The title landed wrong and cold, my chest tightened. “You’re the man who broke my heart first,” I said. “You disappeared without a word and now you’ve kidnapped me?”
He stepped closer. “My name is Nico. Nico Moretti and the Nikolai you know was my twin brother.”
The world tilted, “That’s not possible,” I whispered. “Believe me,” he said coolly, “this is no joke.”
Fear spiked as his hand suddenly closed around my neck, pinning me back. I gasped, panic exploding in my chest. “You knew he was a Moretti,” he growled. “How could you not know he had a twin?”
“He told me his name was Romano,” I choked. “Nikolai Romano.”
His grip tightened then loosened. “Romano?” he repeated slowly. For the first time, something flickered across his face. It was not rage but confusion. He stepped back abruptly, dragging a chair closer and sitting down, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I can see your family taught you well,” he said after a pause. I caught it, the hesitation. The way his jaw tightened and the way his gaze sharpened like he was reassessing me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I sobbed. “Humanity makes us lie to survive.”
“I’m not lying!” Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Why am I here?”
He stood so suddenly the chair skidded across the floor. “You’re here because you couldn’t keep your filthy hands off my brother,” he snarled. “Someone must pay for what was taken from my family.”
My heart slammed violently. “That someone,” he said coldly, “is you.”
“I dont know where he is,” I whispered.
“You killed him and he is now buried,” he said, eyes blazing, “but you sit here pretending to be innocent.”
“What are you saying?” My voice broke. “We buried Nikolai?.”
The words crushed the air from my lungs. “No,” I whispered. “That’s not true.”
He turned and left without another word and the door slammed shut. I slid down the headboard, shaking, my body curling inward as silence swallowed me whole. Nikolai was dead and somehow, I was the one being punished for it.
- Writer
